


The Planets, Op. 32: Jupiter

by youhavebeenstopped



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bill Potts is a space queen, Dimension Travel, F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Parentlock, Post-Season/Series 04, Season/Series 10, a bit gay my guys, more chapters coming, soft johnlock, twelfth Doctor is soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youhavebeenstopped/pseuds/youhavebeenstopped
Summary: A mysterious woman appears in the cafe Sherlock and John are in, asking for help to find her friend, a man named the Doctor, who he and his “transportation machine” have disappeared. A normal sounding case. How, when, and where she explains she's from, however, is almost hard to believe.





	1. Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! <3 
> 
> This is my second fic on Ao3, and I’ll probably fix this chapter and layout tonight when my laptop charges. Pls leave suggestions and constructive critisism! They are greatly appreciated! Will update soon!
> 
> -Suz

 

“S’too bright out,” John complained sleepily, as he and Sherlock followed a busy sidewalk down the street.

 

As the two men walked down the bustling London avenue, John’s arms ached from carrying and bouncing Rosie to sleep. She had woken up screaming at 3 that morning, therefore, he and Sherlock Holmes were completely exhausted.

 

Sherlock also couldn’t fall back asleep after Rosie’s crying. However, the cold morning air and the baby’s hand almost ripping his curly hair out kept him awake enough to remember all of the conversation that morning.

—————

 

“ _Jesus,” John grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. “I can’t go along like this much longer, or I’ll be a dead man walking ‘round.”_

 

_Sherlock was slumped over so far to the table, his curly black hair was slightly dunked in his tea. “Doesn’t she have an off button, or something?”_

 

_John chortled out of exhaustion, and tried to open his eyes far enough to see the banana he was cutting up for the wide awake 8 month old._

 

_"D'ya think I could get ripped from these early morning workout sessions?" John mused, and pretended to flex a muscle. Sherlock felt himself half smile, and forgot ever being frustrated._

 

_"Surely," Sherlock replied, standing up to flip on the kettle. "But you musn't forget cardio and leg days, John." John smiled and wheezed at this._

 

_After Rosie happily took some banana and mushed it in her hair, John took a chair next to Sherlock. He took a look at his watch, and groaned after reading that it was only 5:45 in the morning. He was about to mumble a question to Sherlock, when the taller man spoke his mind first._

 

__“Speedy’s isn’t open this early on a Monday. The only shop I can think to be open on May Bank Day is Annie’s, but their scones are terrible-” _“Let’s go then. I don’t care. I need sleep, but I can’t stay here another minute. We…” John broke off sleepily, but his head bobbed back up. “We could drop Rosie off, for a bit, at Mrs. Hudson’s, but-”__ _

 

_“She isn’t awake yet,” Sherlock mumbled in a low voice. “You’ve done enough. I’ll take… I’ll take her with me.” He yawned, and tried to stand up._

 

_John looked at him questioningly._

 

_“You?”_

 

_“What?”_

 

_“You want to take her.”_

 

_“Hmm, yes? That’s usually what ‘I’ll take her’ means.”_

 

_“You, Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Antisocial, want to take a baby on your chest in a papoose, down 6 blocks to Annie’s.”_

 

_Sherlock rolled his eyes and retorted quickly. “Babies are the same as you and me, only smaller and with more raw perception.”_

 

_Rosie babbled from her high chair, and the banana she meant to eat from her thumb fell back onto the tray._

 

_John shrugged and smiled lightly to himself. Sherlock was becoming more and more attached to Rosie, and they both knew it._

 

_After John and Rosie moved back into 221B post-reconstruction, Sherlock appeared to be acting softer, especially when he held her._

 

_Rosie loved Sherlock, that was certain. He read her stories before bed, made faces at her to make her laugh, and he probably gave her treats when John wasn’t looking._ _John watched him with Rosie sometimes, when he was home from the clinic, or when he was writing up the week’s new cases._

 

_Sherlock never became impatient or inhumane with Rosie, no matter what was happening with the current case. John even thought that when Sherlock held her, and thought John wasn’t looking, Sherlock would actually smile._

 

_After wiping down a sticky Rosie with a wet towel when she was finished with breakfast, John got out the chest carrier and put her in a pink onesie and a knitted hat._

 

_The early May morning was a bit nippy, but was warmer than the past few weeks._

 

_They headed out together, down the stairs quietly as to not wake up Mrs. Hudson, with Rosie nodding off on Sherlock’s chest._

—————

 

Annie’s cafe was small and packed, being one of the only shops open of May 28th Bank Day. The two men and a half ordered espressos and tried to find a corner booth.

 

A very short young woman with a round and dimpled face grinned at Rosie, who had just woken from all the bustling noise while Sherlock stood in line.

 

The lady made faces at Rosie over Sherlock’s shoulder, who was beginning to fuss, and Rosie laughed the way she did, by breathing in hard and squealing. Sherlock nodded to the lady, who had waved goodbye sweetly to Rosie.

 

John took the two orders that appeared and brought it back to their spot.

 

“Thanks so much, mate, I mean it, for taking her-”

 

“It’s no problem. Truly,” Sherlock said softly, and his eyes crinkled after taking Rosie out of the carrier and putting her in the cafe’s high chair.

 

It was a moment before he spoke again, watching the steam curl up from his and John’s cup. “I… well,” Sherlock cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you.”

 

“What for? You’ve done so much for us, Sherlock, by taking us in.”

 

“That’s what I mean. You didn’t have to come live with me, a social moron who solves murders to keep himself off drugs.”

 

“Sher-”

 

“But, you still did. I love being with Rosie, so much, and… I also just, I… well, you see-” Sherlock looked around the cafe nervously, tapping his fingers softly on the wooden table.

 

The morning rush hour was almost over, leaving the cafe with only a handful of people. John frowned at him inquisitively, for he knew when Sherlock wanted to say something but didn’t know how. This didn’t often happen, as Sherlock always had quick remarks, so he was taken by surprise.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You, and Rosie are like-well, family… to me. And it hasn’t been so long after it happened, the funeral, and the flat re-construction. But you still want to be in the flat, John, or maybe you don’t, I don’t know, and-”

 

“Sherlock, we want to be there for you. With you, I mean, and,” John scratched his forehead sheepishly. “And I don’t think I could handle myself back in that other apartment, after it… happened. I just couldn’t,” John half whispered, tripping over his own words.

 

He didn’t know what to say next, and Sherlock apparently didn’t either, so they took a sip of their espressos.

 

Rosie was looking at her fingers intensely, and stuck them in her mouth as if making a final decision.

 

Sherlock could feel his heart beating quite fast. He wasn’t sure why, because people do this sort of thing, right? Spill their emotions? Share their feelings? He hated it, but John had to know that… he. Well. Sherlock could barely stand the silence. It felt like a crap telly show.

 

“John, I wanted to say, that-” The door with the bell on top rang out loudly, and the sudden distraction provided them both from feeling embarrassed for the moment.

 

A darker skinned young woman with a puffed bun on top of her head and curly bangs stood anxiously and out of breath just past the doorway. Sherlock could usually tell exactly everything about a person’s life, but this woman gave him almost little evidence to deduct.

 

Besides the fact that she was a lesbian, going by the obvious bright rainbow scheme of her shirt, a college student, she had hurt her shoulders recently, and the fact that she had been running in distress, Sherlock couldn’t tell anything else about her. Yet, he got the uneasy feeling she wasn’t supposed to be there.

 

“John,” he whispered, and John turned around, confused.

 

“What?”

 

“That woman.”

 

“What’s the matter? Do we have to leave?”

 

“No, but there’s something odd-”

 

Sherlock got cut off when the woman spotted them and walked over nervously.

 

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the woman said shakily. “Are you Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson?”

 

The two nodded, and Rosie took her hand out her mouth to concentrate looking at this new person.

 

“I’m Bill, um, Bill Potts. I thought, um, well. I thought you could help find my friend.”

 

 

 


	2. Big Red Button™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill remembers how she got to this parallel world, and tries to explain it to the world's most famous detective. This detective, of course, being fictional in her universe.

 

“You’re a client, not someone who’s going to kill us, I’m sure. Mrs. Hudson probably told you we were here,” Sherlock grumbed half-heartedly. Clients never came when he was bored, but only when it was least convenient. Of course they decided to leave a note for Mrs. Hudson this time they left randomly.

 

The woman, Bill Potts, apparently, nodded and covered her mouth in awed shock. “I cannot believe this,” she squealed, much like Rosie when something exciting was happening. “The real Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. Watson.”

 

John could feel Sherlock rolling his eyes, but he stood himself up to introduce himself anyway. “John Watson, how can we help you? Sorry we were away, we just-”

 

“Don’t usually hear cases before nine,” Sherlock said shortly, standing up to shake hands after John, but Bill wasn’t fazed by his curtness, in fact, she was even ecstatic.

 

Bill only realized the small baby in the highchair until that moment. “Ohmigoodness, who’s this? Wha’ a sweetheart,” she cooed, and tickled the bottom of Rosie’s pink onesied feet with her finger, and Rosie gave a large gummy grin, proudly showing off two pearly teeth starting to grow in.

 

“She’s my daughter, Rosie. Just turned 9 months last week,” John said, just as proudly as Rosie. Bill was probably going to compliment him on Rosie, but Sherlock grew impatient.

 

“Yes, and what is the nerve-racking thing that you must come and see us with? You’ve been running, and you aren’t supposed to be here on purpose, as you are barely dressed enough for this morning air. You' re practically bare armed and you have goosebumps.”

 

Bill didn’t seem surprised like most clients, and even grinned, as if she knew something. Sherlock’s eyebrow furrowed at this change in events. “What?”

 

“I’m sorry, I still jus’ can’t believe this,” Bill giggled rather vaguely. “Y’know, I read the books about you in primary school.”

 

“But that’s impossible. My first stories came out online on my blog, and that started in… about 2010?” John said, confusedly. “You could’ve only been born in-”

 

“Early 90’s, at least. What do you mean, books?” Sherlock huffed. John stood up and moved over towards the detective.

“Blimey, wha’ I have got to tell you,” she said, and hesitantly sat in the spot that John offered to her in exchange for the seat next to Sherlock.

 

____________

 

_“The 4th Earl of Sandwich. Lovely fellow, he played cards quite well. He was very intrigued when I put some of my bologna and lettuce from dinner in two pieces of bread, and he liked it so much, he named it after himself when I left.”_

 

_“Did’ja win the game?” Bill asked, expecting some sort of punchline, and tried sitting on the TARDIS railing. She almost fell backwards, so she caught herself and hopped down quickly._

 

_“‘Course. Apparently, however, we were playing poker, when I thought it was Old Maid. In that case, he definitely was the Old Maid,” the Doctor mused, swinging the screen around to face him. “Now, we need to be careful, dropping you off at this month in the timeline.”_

 

_“Wha’? Why? Will the TARDIS land someplace differen’ again?”_

 

_“Perhaps, but some months or years are particularly glitchy and hard to land on. Like 1482, for example, or 1938 New York, or 2003 in Botswana. It’s just the way it is.”_

 

_“So, London, in the month of May in 2017 is glitchy? Wha’ could happen if we land wrong there?” Bill asked, and stood up, searching around the controls, as if the answer would somehow be on a toggle._

 

_“I don’t know. Last time, it almost sent a parallel world crashing down. It could be disastrous,” the Doctor explained vaguely, but his eyes were waiting for hers excitingly._

 

_“Oh, I see. Could be disastrous. Definitely not worth the try,” Bill said solemnly, looked at her converse, and rocked back and forth on them. After a few seconds, she couldn’t take it any longer. “Let’s go.”_

 

 _The Doctor brought down the lever, and the TARDIS spluttered and shook. The two were thrown to the rails, and they caught them hard, laughing excitingly. The fun of it only lasted a few_ _seconds, until the console started sparking and a booming sound like a gong rang alarmingly._

_  
_

_“Bill! Find somewhere to hold on tight! I’m the slightest bit convinced that this was not a good idea,” the Doctor shouted, straining to get a hold on some stable bit of the console._

_  
_

_“Seriously?!” Bill yelled sarcastically, and was flung to the stairs up to the front doors, where she hung on for dear life. The TARDIS shuddered violently, and made so ear deafening loud screeches that Bill had to cover her ears. Then, the ground gave way like an earthquake, and shook the whole control room. The Doctor lost his footing and went into the air, but he caught a hold on the spinny screen. Bill, who still had her fingers in her ears after the shattering Cloister Bell alarm, went head over heels backwards, just as the front doors opened._

_  
_

_To their sudden surprise and amazement, the TARDIS stopped shaking and making noise. The Doctor stood up, and gingerly brushed himself off._

_  
_

_“Bill. Bill! Are you alright? What d’you see out there?” the Doctor asked hurriedly, and ran over to her, where she was on her side, thoroughly defeated._

_  
_

_“Yeah, yeah, ‘m alright. Tossed like a salad, though,” she replied roughly. With the help of the Doctor’s hand, Bill stood up in the threshold, rubbing her head, and looked out the doors into a dark stoned alleyway. Before she said anything, however, the Doctor seemed to read her mind. She often wondered if he really could, at times._

_  
_

_“Not safe to go out there, no. And truly, this time, because, if this is correct…” he stated, while whizzing his sonic screwdriver around out the blue doors, “... this, indeed, is a parallel world of our own universe.”_

_  
_

_“So, unsafe because of the TARDIS acting sparky?”_

_  
_

_“Yes, but more than anything could be wrong or different here. Cybermen, Daleks, the Slitheen, or anyone could have taken over this Earth. Perhaps there is no such thing as spoons, or mandarin oranges. Anything dangerous like that could put us in harm’s way, or leave us stuck here.”_

_  
_

_“Okay,” Bill said thoughtfully, still looking around the doorway. “No Daleks in sight. How do we ge’ back to our world?”_

_  
_

_“Well... I should have probably mentioned in the beginning that excessive parallel world jumping could cause… well, a crack or rip in the fabric of the universe-”_

_  
_

_“WHAT?! Yes! Tha’ would have been extremely important to know!” Bill shouted, finally turning towards him angrily._

_  
_

_“Yes, well, um. Sorry about that, won’t forget it next time, but I could try this!” the Doctor began sheepishly, but ran more confidently back to the main console. “I haven’t tried this since the 2nd Ice Age, but-”_

_  
_

_“And how safe is it, ‘this’ thing?” Bill said, exasperatingly, still not moving from just before the dark alleyway._

_  
_

_“Safe? Well, when I say ‘I haven’t_ **_tried_ ** _it since the 2nd Ice Age-”_

_  
_

_“Yeah?”_

_  
_

_The Doctor pulled out a drawer, found a key, stuck it in a tiny slot above his head, and big red button appeared by the back large glass cylinder. “Well, it may or may not have started the 2nd Ice Age.”_

_  
_

_“Shit. You’re kidding, righ’? God, please say you’re-”_

_  
_

_“Nope!” the Doctor said with a frown of concentration, and slammed his hand on the red button. A beeping alarm rang throughout the time machine. “Three! Two! O- wait, Bill, get away from the door-!”_

_  
_

_It was too late. A noise went off like a cannon, and another earthquake of shaking sent Bill flying backwards, and she hit the back of her head and her shoulders against the brick wall. To her horror, the TARDIS was spluttering and deteriorating quickly._

_  
_

_“DOCTOR!” Bill yelled, jumping up with a wince, and she could barely hear him shout her name back in desperation._

_  
_

_The TARDIS was gone. The Doctor was gone with it. Leaving her in a strange, and currently dark parallel world._

_  
_

_“Shit,” Bill groaned, and grasped at the curly hair on her forehead anxiously, and she slumped back on the wall behind her._

  


_\------_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me only an hour or two put together of work to finish! I love the friendship and humor between these two <3 Please leave comments/kudos/constructive criticism as you see fit! 
> 
> Thanks,  
> Suz :)


End file.
